A madman.
Those words perfectly summarize Oscar.
A seemingly bright and friendly smile that masks a deep madness lurking behind.
But more than anything else—
Overwhelming physical talent.
If “magic” is a miraculous ability born from the human mind, then Oscar manifests such abilities through sheer physical prowess alone.
This makes dealing with him particularly troublesome.
——「Oscar Javert Pattern Breakdown」——
The frequently observed patterns—essentially, the things you’ll see before you die—are as follows.
- Punching: It’s exactly as it sounds. Uppercuts, right hooks, left jabs, haymakers. They come in all forms. When one lands, it’s game over.
- Charging: A pattern that looks like something straight out of a war. From a distance, he charges at you like a bull, kicking up a cloud of dust as he barrels toward you. If you see this, imagine a one-man highway mowing everything down. Avoid it if you value your life.
- Swinging: Occasionally, he’ll grab a weapon nearby and start swinging. As if bare fists weren’t bad enough, when he picks up a weapon, you’re better off resigning yourself to your fate.
Strategy: If he starts chasing you, it’s faster to accept death and start over with a new plan.
Key Tip: Pay attention to his feet. If you see his hands move, it’s already too late.
————
CRACK!
His fist stopped just in front of my face.
Close enough that I could feel my lashes brush against his knuckles if I blinked.
If not for Ether, my face would have been obliterated by now.
‘Good thing I was watching his footing.’
The moment Oscar shifted his center of gravity onto his leading foot.
I concentrated all the Ether spread throughout my body and barely managed to block him.
If not for the half-joking advice in the strategy guide, I’d already be a pile of meat.
Oscar gazed at me with eyes that sparkled with amusement.
‘Hoh. That was better than I expected.’
Sure, I blocked it, but can we call this “blocking well”?
The inside of my arm was already shredded, and my insides felt like they’d been jostled around by the shockwave.
I took a few steps back to disperse the impact, dragging lines in the stone floor beneath me.
Oscar’s power was so precisely controlled that if I hadn’t gone all-out, my head would’ve flown off cleanly.
Oscar grinned.
That endlessly relaxed expression.
He wasn’t even sweating.
The gap in power was overwhelming.
Even so, I couldn’t help but speak up.
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
“I wanted to see something.”
“See what?”
“The real you, Ian.”
With those words, Oscar’s eyes curved into crescent moons.
Behind him, a mirror came into view.
In it stood a man in training clothes—utterly out of place in a fantasy setting—blocking Oscar’s punch.
Oscar turned his head toward the mirror with a smooth motion.
“Hahaha. So that’s your true appearance?”
At this point, I honestly felt like leaving it all to fate.
“Did you just laugh at my face?”
“No, quite the opposite. You’re rather handsome.”
Even if he said that with a smile, it only made me angrier.
Sure, the passive trait that came with my title kept my mind as calm as an ocean, but…
without that soothing effect, I’d be a complete mess.
After all, I’d just been exposed as a possessor by the most unpredictable and dangerous person imaginable.
“Nice to meet you, Ian.”
Meeting Oscar made me realize something.
There are countless types of smiles.
The one he was wearing now, though…
Even a father gazing at his newborn child wouldn’t beam with this much delight.
No matter how handsome the boy may be, having to endure this kind of smile from a man is unnerving.
But more important than that is…
‘I’m going to die.’
If I remain idle, I’ll die.
Oscar.
He achieved his goal of uncovering my identity.
Now that he has exposed me, the likelihood of him letting me live is virtually zero.
From the start, Oscar declared.
If it’s a being from another world, he’ll kill it, whether it’s good or evil.
— CRASH!
The stone wall behind me collapsed.
The cumulative damage from the shockwaves of Oscar’s punches had finally brought it down.
I have to fight this monster.
But… can I win against him?
‘I don’t have the Coat, the Shield, or even Lunar.’
The only thing I have is Ether.
And to make matters worse, the location is the Vatican.
This is home turf for the Inquisitors.
“Hoh? Are you planning to resist?”
Did he notice my muscles twitching in preparation for battle?
Oscar casually stepped back, putting some distance between us, and observed me with an amused expression.
“Well, if you just let me go, I wouldn’t need to resist.”
“Ahahaha! As if! There’s a being from another world right before my eyes!”
He laughed like a lunatic, as though he’d just heard the most entertaining joke of his life.
“If I die, I won’t go alone.”
“Even better.”
His confidence was absolute.
Or perhaps his brain simply lacked the concept of “worry”.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he laughed even with an arm torn off.
Even as I gathered Ether, his smile didn’t waver.
“How did you figure out I was cloaked in something?”
“At first, I didn’t know. But something looked strange in the mirror.”
“Strange?”
“Yes. A few strands of your hair were floating as if caught on something.”
… This madman.
Even his perception is incredible?
I couldn’t help but wonder just how far his physical abilities extended.
“Enough talk.”
Oscar tilted his head lightly to each side.
The soft cracking sounds of his neck accompanied his delicate hands flexing.
“Let’s finish this now, shall we?”
“Wait.”
I raised my hand in a hurry.
He tilted his head, puzzled.
“Do you have any final words? Though I must warn you, I cannot be persuaded or swayed. I serve Deus alone. Only the divine can save us.”
Oscar’s serene yet unwavering smile made me certain of one thing.
To deal with this madman, I have to be crazier.
“I am God.”
The words spilled from my lips, accompanied by a smile.
◆
Crack.
Oscar clenched his fist, ready to strike, but instinctively stopped himself at the last moment.
Instead, he stared at the young man before him.
A man with jet-black hair and eyes as dark as the void—more akin to darkness than light.
Ian Blackangers.
“To claim to be God is the gravest sin.”
His voice emerged strained, almost crushed by his fury.
Oscar realized his teeth were clenched tightly.
Blasphemy.
Among the gravest of sins, impersonating God was the highest offense.
He wanted to crush this man on the spot.
And yet…
“Ian, you deserve immediate punishment for this sin.”
No matter how much he willed his fist to strike, he couldn’t.
Why?
“Even now, I should arrest you and conduct another trial. Burning you at the stake for thirty days, three hundred days if necessary, until this land is purified would be fitting.”
His words were meant to intimidate.
However, the man claiming to be God, Ian, only raised the corners of his mouth higher.
A truly dazzling yet dark smile.
To Oscar, Ian had already become the embodiment of a demon.
And that demon opened his mouth to speak.
“Why did you hold back?”
“…”
Oscar couldn’t answer.
The truth was undeniable—his instincts were being suppressed.
The reason… He didn’t want to admit it.
He was desperately trying to ignore it.
But Ian wouldn’t let him off so easily.
“I’m asking why you refrained from punishing me for a sin so grave. Even now, I can see you trembling, holding yourself back.”
“That’s…”
“It’s because you felt something from me, didn’t you?”
“…”
Oscar remained silent.
It was true.
Ian Blackangers exuded something.
An aura that couldn’t be described—it was colorless, odorless, and didn’t belong to any element. It wasn’t even divine power.
And yet…
That presence was astonishingly similar.
Similar to the one he had been yearning for.
‘No. That’s impossible.’
Oscar shook his head and glared at Ian.
“You’re clearly a fraud. Just looking at you forces ridiculous ideas into my mind.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Whatever makes you seem extraordinary is nothing more than an illusion. You cannot possibly be…”
Ian didn’t answer with words. Instead, he raised his hand.
At his fingertips, a faint, transparent aura began to flow. It was so clear that it couldn’t be seen—it could only be felt.
The aura was both warm and stern.
If the aura of the saints resembled that of a mother, this was that of a father.
Oscar stared blankly at the single thread of energy emanating from Ian’s hand.
It was the very essence he had spent his short life pursuing.
Ian finally spoke.
“Mano must have told you. That one of those from beyond would save this world.”
“…”
“And you said it yourself: only Deus can save this world.”
Oscar wanted to block his ears.
Whatever Ian said next would surely shatter his deeply held beliefs.
Perhaps silencing Ian—breaking his mouth so he could no longer speak—was the solution.
But it was too late.
Ian spoke without hesitation.
“The one who will save this world is me.”
